


A Peculiar Vacation

by HanaAarow



Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Unconventional structure, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanaAarow/pseuds/HanaAarow
Summary: While staying with Robert in Bron-Yr-Aur, Jimmy begins to experience some peculiar thoughts and urges.
Relationships: Jimmy Page/Robert Plant
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	A Peculiar Vacation

The lightbulbs in Bron Yr Aur were glimmering like honey and Robert was looking at Jimmy funny. The lonely wine bottle, sadly drained, was on the table and for once, Robert was the one less stable. As Jimmy stared back he found their eye contact obscene, his bleeding ink wells had no place in Robert’s periwinkles right now, it was positively filthy. That man should be locked up. Unfortunately given the fact that Jimmy was also drunk, he continued to look. Robert stuck out his tongue and dragged it across his top lip as if it were the most delicious scoop of ice cream he’d ever tasted in his life.   
This absurdity had begun a few weeks prior, it had started only a week after they had arrived, or maybe it started when Robert had asked Jimmy to come stay at this place with him. But that couldn’t be right, if that were the case it must have started before then, maybe it had started when Jimmy had invited Robert over to his house to listen to records. Or maybe it had started- absurdity, it was utter absurdity. Things had started going sideways for Pagey not long after they arrived (as I said earlier), his mind had begun to play tricks on him. Now this was nothing new for Mr Page, his mind was a very playful fellow and loved a good spat and game, but these tricks were of a peculiar variety. There was one morning when Jimmy was reclining lengthwise on the sofa that had been allotted, quietly reading. However, as soon as Robert bobbed into the picture, the tomfoolery began; this simple exercise of reading became compromised when Robert decided to lean over to do something in the fireplace, prodding sticks or something. Jimmy became increasingly fixated on a particular part of Robert, the part that was sticking out at his eye level and was placed right in the middle of his field of vision. Jimmy stared at his friend’s pert behind for several seconds until he was done tossing logs or whatever in the fireplace. Most unsavoury. This kind of madness continued to occur on several occasions thereafter, and it only worsened as the days went on. Jimmy’s wanton eyes were dragged to and fro over Robert’s inscrutable form on a concerningly regular basis. But it was to be of no concern to Jimmy, no concern at all. The most important thing about this trip was the composition of music. The music was the most important thing and the most important thing was music and Jimmy let his mind be dammed if it dare try to abuse it. But then there was the other half of the issue.  
This other half was something that Jimmy had no possibilities of control over, something which caused great disgruntlement in the befuddled guitarists’ befuddled brain. For it wasn’t just Jimmy’s mind playing tricks, it seemed to be Robert’s too, or maybe Robert was playing tricks. Tricky cunt. But anyway, when Robert and Jimmy played together during this excursion, and Jimmy finished his playing, he would always look up to find Robert looking at him funny. Except that it wasn’t funny at all because it was positively horrendous. Robert continued to behave in annoying and uncouth manners throughout the following days, he would look at Jimmy funny when he wasn’t doing much of anything at all, he would take off his shirt in front of Jimmy when it wasn’t the appropriate weather conditions at all, and he would sit in his room and masturbate. How Jimmy knew the details of that last one is a matter not to be discussed.   
The madness had begun to multiply into something more serious when Jimmy had made the abhorrent decision to walk back to his room from the bathroom, this is when he had first heard Robert masturbating. The Devil’s metal detector that was Jimmy’s brain was beeping hysterically as soon as it heard a telltale Sound. It was well-known that Robert was loud in bed, you only had to take one look at the man to tell what a whore he was, and it seemed that he was clearly prone to some theatrics when it came to sexual expression, even when no one was watching. Jimmy’s face went up in flames soon enough, he probably remained standing outside Robert’s bedroom for so long simply because he was waiting for steam to come out of his ears. He had frozen to the spot, the ice statue with the flaming cheeks who simply wanted to melt already. People say these things are like a car crash, of course it’s awful, but you just can’t look away. Jimmy leaned dangerously so that his pathetically desperate ear could be closer to the door. He must be close now, Jimmy thought, with disgust at his own intuition. Indeed he was correct, Robert’s cries which were muffled by the door, became louder and louder until they were cadenced by a gasp of pleasure. When these sounds imposed themselves upon Jimmy’s ears, his wayward hand had decided to fly to his crotch. Luckily he was able to stop it in time before any real damage was done.   
Unfortunately, this ruthless hand could not be fended off for long. Living in an isolated cottage without anyone acceptable to make love to meant that one way or another Jimmy would have to take care of his needs as well; an endeavour that went entirely triangular on the occasions that it was attempted. One such occasion was on a stormy night when the pair had grown tired of cigarettes and separated off into their very pleasantly separate bedrooms. Jimmy was dizzy and drowsy as he lay in his warming sheets beyond the roar outside, and that devious hand began to sneak towards its target. At the moment the hand was not suspect however, Jimmy happily exhaled as fondled himself through his pyjama trousers and figured about girls in seven different languages. He lolled his head to the side as his visions romped, he remembered the darling feeling of leather, remembered the smooth back of some darling something. He held the whip in his hand. Now the smarting back of the girl began to mutate. Her hair sprouted golden. And Jimmy’s sleepy cognition could do nothing to stop it. He flopped backwards into his seething desire and watched that hand raise and fall over Robert’s back. That was what he got for his meddling. Again. Again. Again.  
Soon the kettle was hottering on the stove, Plant was wanting for watering. Page was reading a newspaper at the wooden dining table that lived at the cottage. They breakfasted together on toast and jam, or rather Robert ate toast and jam while Jimmy absorbed his coffee and twiddled his fretting hand on the table. The day was sure to reap great rewards in the music department. Jimmy had been practicing late the night before, and he knew that Robert had some words cooking in his curly head. They had surely struck gold with this place, the atmosphere was just perfect. Clever Plant. The second time Jimmy heard Robert masturbating was when he had needed to go get something in the kitchen and he thought that Robert was asleep. Needed to get something… now what was he doing in the kitchen… oh never mind that. He walked quietly past his friends room and he stopped, because there was light coming from beneath the door of course. He thought that Robert was asleep but he was actually awake because there was light showing beneath his door and this was quite notable, quite unusual, a cause for stopping. Jimmy crept closer, making sure that he didn’t cause too much disturbance of the light inside, he didn’t want Robert to see his footsteps, he then turned about to lean his back against the wall right next to Robert’s door, the side where it opened, not the side with the hinges. Why yes, it wouldn’t do to disturb that soundly waking man inside, he was simply going to the kitchen to get something and it wouldn’t do to be interrupted, it wouldn’t do. Slowly and gracefully, he slid down the wall next to the door, on the side where it opened (no hinges), and he leaned his ear at that devilish place where the door could swing wide open if one decided to turn the knob.   
A thick black cloud hung in Jimmy’s face and he felt distinctly sweaty, shakily, he pushed aside the cloud and shrugged his lips. It was getting harder and harder to tell who was more drunk. Sweat was clinging to his body like a fatal rash. The sweat was running over his face, he licked his lips in nerves, wouldn’t want a mouth full of sweat now would you. He shook his head nervously, the black cloud quivered, he grabbed his arm and squeezed, he breathed up and down like pacing a hallway. Who’s that? Oh, that’s Robert.   
“Pagey?”  
Oh Jesus. His lips were right there, why was he here now,  
“Pagey, are you alright?”  
Maybe Jimmy was the drunker one. He gazed, glazed at Robert’s face that had shown up in front of his own some time in the last second or century, his foggy eyes swam like two tadpoles beneath the surface of a pond. He licked his lips again, but not because he was nervous. He looked down.

……………………………………

The first time that Jimmy kissed Robert he couldn’t help the sound that came out of him. So pathetic, desperate, fragile, hysterical was he, that he moaned low in his throat and for too long, it was madness, he felt like a wild dog, when Robert kissed him back. They broke apart softly and their foreheads rested together a moment of bliss or contemplation, Jimmy felt Robert’s soft breath fan over his wet and open mouth. His eyes remained closed, it was too much for now, to look. They kissed once more, opening their drunken mouths in some blind, dumb love for each other. The air was tinged with gold, that honey glow, it felt like honey was sinking all around them, sliding over their tongues, sweet, thick and gooey. Robert unglued himself and asked,  
“Feel any better?”, with sleepy eyes, eyes that wanted to go to bed, and cheeks that were flushed and glistening.   
Maybe Robert was the drunker one. Jimmy looked back in hot, sweating fury. He grabbed Robert’s wrists and flung him to the couch. Robert gazed up at two burning beetle black eyes and the corners of his mouth curved like the flourish at the end of a word. Jimmy kissed him so hard that he whined in pain. Robert’s legs swung open wide beneath Pagey and they rutted against each other with a fierce desperation that could rub both their cocks raw in five minutes. Robert’s mouth that was so known for its song had opened too and he sang to high heaven for the saints to come marching in.   
Strider stirred from where he was slumped upon the carpet, sniffing at the lovers on the couch, wondering what his master was doing now. Jimmy hoped that he wouldn’t alert the press.

……………………………………

“Why do I feel this way?”  
“Why not?”  
“You know why,”  
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to fuck me, Pagey, it’s only natural.”  
“How’s that natural, this isn’t the way I’m meant to be.”  
“Because you want it, if that’s how you feel, that’s how it oughta be. You know I want you too.”  
“Do you think you can go again?”  
“Until the Earth stops turning.”

“You gonna put that in a song, Percy?”


End file.
